


Time for a rethink

by LazySundayMusings



Category: Peter Kay's Car Share (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-01 06:05:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16759414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LazySundayMusings/pseuds/LazySundayMusings
Summary: John’s recent discussions have helped him realise that while he may be comfortable with his current position, he’s not actually happy.  How exactly has he ended up as an Assistant Manager with no prospects?Set just before S2x04.





	1. Chapter 1

The display on his desk phone read “Unknown” although the ring tone was indicating he was receiving a call from an internal number. Peter frowned, then picked up the receiver. “Good morning, HR, Peter Hansen speaking.”  
“Good morning HR, Peter Hansen speaking - it’s John Redmond here.”  
Peter grinned. “John! How are ya mate?”  
“Very good pal, very good. Yourself?”  
“I’m doing all right for a Thursday,” replied Peter. He looked at the phone display. “Are you not at your desk, mate?”  
“No. Not just now. Hey, can I ask a favour?”  
“Shoot.”  
“I’m going to be over your way next Tuesday for the year-end meeting, and I wonder if we could have a quiet chat before it starts? A.. very.. quiet chat?”  
Peter hesitated. “Ah, yeah. Sure mate. No other frigger turns up here until nearly nine so if you can be here early we’ll have the place to ourselves for ages.”  
“How early?”  
“Get here about eight and I’ll have a brew waiting.”  
“You’re a gentleman. Thank you sir.”

That conversation had taken place four days ago. Peter had been true to his word. The brew was waiting alongside a few chocolate biscuits - “Got to keep your strength up, mate” - that John had enjoyed while sending an email with his morning status report.  
His second brew was sitting on the table, forgotten. John was sitting at the second desk in Peter Hansen’s office in Area-HR, looking at the scanned documents on the monitor, his mouth wide open. “He can’t do that.”  
“Actually, he can. Store Managers have veto rights for transfers, appointments and expressions of interest, and I quote, ‘where a successful outcome could have a detrimental impact on the normal operations of a store or support facility’ - end quote. But there is an expectation that they will tell you what they’ve done and why, as a basic professional courtesy.”  
“Bastard didn’t say shit to me. Is there nothing else in the files about this?”  
“You’ve seen all of it.”  
“Can I do anything? Appeal the appointments, complain about what he did?”  
“Too late to do anything about the appointments - the appeal-period has long-passed, so they stand. There’s nowhere to go with that, but - at the very least - you might have grounds to complain about what’s happened. Any idea why Dave might have done this?”  
“Shafted me? Dunno.”  
Both men were silent for a minute, John with a defeated look on his face, Peter finishing his tea.

Peter glanced at his watch and cleared his throat. “We’d better get going. The meeting starts in 10 minutes.”  
“We?”  
“Yeah. I’ll be talking at you lot for a while, covering staffing requirements during December and January, reminders about the correct calculation of holiday entitlements, normal hours vs overtime expectations, blah blah blah. Usual HR crap.”  
“Joy.”  
“Joyful crap.” Peter looked at John for a few moments. “Are you expected back at the store by a particular time?”  
“Said I’d be back by two at the latest.”  
“Let them know you’ll probably be back a bit later than that. There’s a lot going to be covered, in much more detail than usual even though the bulk of the presentations and planning is based on last year’s work, minus the screw-ups, of course.” Both men smiled at the thought. “I’ll take you to lunch afterwards, have another chat.”  
“I don’t really fancy a pub-lunch.”  
“Me neither. Too many work-bods will be at the pubs after the meeting. I’m thinking of a quieter place a bit further away, where the chances of work-bods being there is slim but there’s plenty of space to talk. Really good meals as well. What did you plan to have for lunch?”  
“Sandwiches as usual.”  
Peter grinned. “Not today. How does a big steak sound?”  
“Bloody fantastic!”

Dave Thompson was annoyed. Far more annoyed than usual. He’d woken from a nightmare at three o’clock that morning and once he was sure that he hadn’t woken Alison - a notoriously light sleeper - he’d forced himself to remain perfectly still in the hope that he would eventually get back to sleep. He hadn’t.  
So Dave had arrived at work short on sleep, nerves near-shredded after a near-miss with a motorway moron and an unnecessary amount of noise from staff coming into the store, so his main focus was on finding a reason - any reason - to leave early.  
He’d been sitting at his desk for almost twenty minutes before he realised that John hadn’t come through to give the morning status update, adding to the irritation he already felt. He hit the quickdial on the desk phone through to John’s office but the call went unanswered. He hit a second quickdial through to John’s cellphone but it went straight to voicemail. “What the hell’s he playing at?”  
Dave got up, put on his suit jacket and sternest expression then strode to John’s office - to find the light was on but it was empty. “Prick’s probably sniffing around Kitson again,” he thought and headed to the observation window where he could look out over a large part of the main floor without being seen. He cast a wistful look at Kayleigh then scanned the store, noting with approval that all the sections were fully-staffed and busy with customers but then frowning when he didn’t see John. “Where is that fat bastard?”  
Dave turned on his heel and headed towards Cath Hilton’s office. Just short of the door he took a moment to compose himself, then knocked at the open door and went in. “Excuse me Cath, where’s John? Has he called in sick?”  
“No. He’s at Area this morning, at the year-end operations meeting. Should be back by three.”  
A pause. “Oh, yes. ‘Course he is. But, so, what about his status report?”  
“He’s done that - sent it in that email an hour ago. Did you you not get that?”  
“Ah...”  
Against her better judgement, Cath offered “How about I just forward it to you again?”  
“Yes. Please. Thanks, Cath.” Grateful for the let-off, Dave nodded and left her office. Cath waited for the door to click shut. “Dickhead,” she muttered.

John’s expectation that the meeting would be the usual half-baked mess had been dispelled when he’d walked into the conference room and seen the extensive sets of documents and stationery arranged on each table for the attendees, along with two impressively-large screens on the front wall each displaying “YEAR-END OPERATIONS PLAN”. As the room filled he looked around and noted that the attendees were almost exclusively store managers. “I am honoured,” he thought.  
Alan Campbell opened the meeting at exactly 9 o’clock, but with none of his usual rambling. “Good morning everyone. We have a lot to get through this morning, as this will cover the ten weeks through until late in January. Karen Whitford has coordinated the teams in Area that have put all this together and will be running the sessions today.” He turned to his left. “Karen, can you get us under way please.”  
He stepped away from the podium and was replaced by the familiar figure of the Area Operations manager. “Thank you, Alan. Good morning, everyone. We do have a lot to cover this morning. You all have hard-copies of the presentations we’ll be working through. You’ll have updated presentation notes, copies of any questions and answers plus all the supporting material in your inboxes by the end of tomorrow at the latest.” She paused. “Any questions?”  
Silence.  
“Excellent. Let’s get to it. As Alan said, this will cover the ten weeks through until late January...”

When he’d walked into the conference room John had still been fuming at what he’d seen in his personal file in Peter’s office, but he’d had to quickly push that from his mind in order to deal with the sheer volume of information being presented. Indeed, there had been barely enough time to acknowledge the presence of Ian Hardy next to him with a “Hi mate” and quick handshake before the screens changed to show details of the next topic.

At 10:15 Karen again stepped up to the podium. “All right everyone, we’re going to take a break here. Can you all be back for a start in fifteen minutes please? Thank you for the questions and comments - we will try to get some of the answers for you during the next session. When you get back the next set of handouts will be waiting for you. Please be back on time, as we still have a lot to get through. Thank you everyone.” And with that they were dismissed. 

John took the opportunity to head to the bathroom then got a takeaway cup of tea and went back to his table in the conference room. Ian Hardy joined him a few minutes later, and put two handfuls of biscuits on the table between them.  
“Hi John, how are ya mate? Help yourself.”  
“Thanks mate, I’m good. You? How’s Burnley treating you?”  
“I’m good. They’re a good bunch there.”  
John nodded. “Hey - is it true you’ve not moved yet?”  
“Sort of. I was driving over every day, now I’ve got a tiny shithouse flat that I stay in during the week then back to the house for the weekend. It’s taking longer than I’d expected to sort out a new place over there, so I’m putting up with this for a while. It’s cheaper than driving over every day, and more convenient, but not quite what I’d expected in terms of a promotion.”  
“Right, right.”  
Ian hesitated. “How’s everyone at yours?”  
“Much the same, yeah, with a few new faces. You heard about Ted?”  
“Yeah - shame. Really nice bloke, that one.” He hesitated. “How is she?”  
“Rachel? Doing all right, I suppose.”  
“Still dancing then?”  
“Yep. Teaching yoga as well.”  
“Really? I didn’t know that.”  
“Yep - about six months now.” He paused. “Want me to say Hello for you?”  
Ian shook his head. “Um... no. Thanks.”  
“Okay.”

Karen stepped to the podium. “Thank you all for being back on time. We’ll move on - the next topic is stock-level management in the new year...”

It was 12:15 when Karen stepped to the podium for the final time. “Thank you Susan. Right everyone - that’s it for today. Thank you again for your questions and comments. We will send the bulk of the documentation out to you this afternoon, with the remainder coming through at some point tomorrow afternoon. If you have any further questions or comments, please email them to the address on the second page in your presentation packs. Thanks again, and have a good afternoon.”

The room was then filled with chatter as nearly seventy people got to their feet and said their goodbyes to their colleagues.  
John turned to Ian. “Good seeing you mate - take care, yeah?”  
“You too, John. Hey - will you say Hi to Rachel for me? And just that I hope she’s all right?”  
John nodded. “You got it, bud. See ya round.”  
“Cheers John. Bye mate.”

John picked up what seemed like hundred pages and secured them with two oversized clips. He looked up to see Peter approaching him. “Any chance we could go get some lunch? I’m starving.”  
“Yep. Want to dump that lot in my office first?”  
“Nah - I’ll put it in the car on the way.”

A short time later they were walking into a building John recognised.  
“Isn’t this the private club where waitresses are dressed up as French maids or something?”  
“Yep but not for a while now.”  
“Did you ever come here at the time?”  
“A few times, but the novelty wore off.”  
“Eh?”  
“The meals were always good, but the whole dressing-up thing was a bit naff. And a bit depressing, when you realised that some bonus cleavage at lunchtime was going to be the highlight of your day and that it could only go downhill from there.”  
“Even when you got home?”  
Peter chuckled cynically. “You’re obviously not married.”

After signing them both in, Peter ordered their meals and they found a table in a quiet corner.  
John cleared his throat. “Is it me, or was today’s session a bit over the top?”  
“How so?”  
“I mean - I get the need to sort staffing and suppliers and whatever, but... long-range weather forecasts? Really?”  
“Well, there’s a reason for that. You remember the problems back in early January? By the time you got back to work, after your dad... things were pretty much back to normal. Turned out that no one had put much thought into dealing with the kinds of problems we had then. And during the worst of the problems Head Office called Campbell in, and told him to sort it out or they’d sort him out.”  
John’s jaw dropped. “I didn’t know that.”  
“No one does, officially. Got it?” Peter grinned. “Anyway - what you saw today was the result of Campbell’s overreaction to being told off. I think that the level of detail is unnecessary, but we won’t know for sure until next January. However, the process they put in place to work it all out looks solid. I can see it being put in place across the country.”

The server brought their drinks to the table. Peter waited for him to be out of earshot before he spoke again.

“And planning is the reason that I suggested we should talk. As you know, the company has no appetite for building new premises, meaning there’s no expansion and few opportunities to progress.”  
John grunted.  
“What you don’t know is that we haven’t actually given up on the idea entirely. The current talk is about setting up 8 to 10 smaller stores in the next 2 years, in areas where we don’t have much of a presence, but in existing, well-sited buildings where leases are coming up for renewal. The emphasis would be on outfitting existing buildings rather than building new stores from scratch. There’s going to be a concerted effort in Area - fully supported by Head Office - to take a good look at that, so at some point they’ll be setting up a team that needs people from Area and various stores in it. I think you would be a strong contender for that team. Minimum of 2 months, maximum of 6 months as a temporary transfer, based in Area. No idea when it would actually start, but realistically it could be sometime in October.”

John looked at him. “How do you know about this?”  
“Because I’m already part of it. This first bit is looking at options for setting up the team, and then there’s working on the team itself, long-term. I want in on that as well.”  
“Long-term?”  
“The work won’t be complete in six months. There will have to be permanent positions created in the Strategy group to keep it going. Not to mention what will be needed to take it nationally.”

Peter gave John a few moments to take it in. “Can I say something off the record, as a mate?”  
“Sure.”  
“The chance of you getting a store of your own, right now, is basically nil. There are no positions available, plus it doesn’t help that Thompson squashed your chances the last couple of times. Short of a death or two, you are going nowhere in a hurry.”  
John nodded. “That’s what I’d figured.”  
“But, if these smaller stores go ahead then you might be in with a chance to manage one, if being a shopkeeper is what you really want. Or, you could give that idea away, stay in Area and keep doing the same kind of thing - creating opportunities to open more stores, create more jobs, help the company grow physically bigger.”  
“If this team is in place over December/January, couldn’t Dave just veto the transfer, like the other jobs?”  
“He would need to put up a very strong case to keep you out of a team that’s looking to expand the company as a whole. There are no guarantees that this will fly, but the first part is already under way, and if it does go ahead - and it should, given that the company is losing market share - the high-ups won’t take any notice of his bleating.”

Their mains arrived. John looked approvingly at his plate.  
“Told ya it’d be good. Get into it.”

Peter was nearly finished when he pointed his fork at John. “The more I think about it, the more I think Thompson may have done you a favour, in a messed-up way. He killed your chances to get Store Manager, essentially saying that the store cannot afford to lose you permanently, given the option. But you were away for a month after your dad died, and he was away for nearly three months after his heart ops, and both times there were no problems finding other people to do those jobs. And those people are still around, so he can’t use that as a reason to stop you being away for two months. And if it gets extended out to six months, they won’t let him call you back early.”

John thought about that, then pointed his fork at Peter. “If this went ahead, and if it went big, and if it went national - wouldn’t I have to work in Head Office? Shift to London?”  
“Nope - you could live where you want but be based in an Area office and just go to London a few days each month. Most of it would be emails, phone calls, video conferencing. Think of it as supercharged-Skype.”  
“That sounds great.”  
“Doesn’t it?”

Once both men had finished their meals they declined the dessert menu but did request a large pot of tea. Their conversation moved away from work and onto families and friends. After what seemed no time at all John saw Peter lift his arm and tap his watch. “It’s time to head off.”

They were in sight of the Area office when Peter tapped John’s shoulder and they stopped. “There’s something you need to know. The fact that you’ve been in the place 22 years without a store of your own, even having acted as Manager quite a few times, is starting to count against you. You saw the file. No one even questioned why he killed your chances to apply.” He reached into his jacket pocket and handed a folded piece of paper to John. “If you do want to complain about what Thompson did, your options are limited to what’s on that. Nothing might come of it, but it might stop him doing it again.” He tapped his nose then looked around. “I hear you’re running the Christmas team for your store this year. That’s nice, and I guess it could be fun. Look, I’m not trying to shit on your parade, but it’s not gonna do dick for your career. This new team is your chance to make an actual difference.” He laughed. “And I realise that I’m starting to sound like a TV evangelist - but don’t let that put you off.”

It was almost 2:20 when they approached John’s Fiat in the Area carpark. John unlocked it and turned to face his friend.  
“Thanks mate. Thanks for lunch. Thanks for telling me about all this. I really appreciate it.”  
“No worries mate. Like I said, there’s no guarantees but it’s looking very promising. So until I say otherwise - keep this under your Stetson. Say Hi to Cath for me, okay?”  
They shook hands then Peter turned and started walking back to the office.

John watched him walk away, then got in his car. Despite having clearly heard Peter repeatedly say “no guarantees”, John was unable to stop himself feeling increasingly excited at the prospect of working on something worthwhile. He brought himself back down to Earth with the thought that it would depend on senior management making a sensible decision for a change, the likelihood of which was low to middling at best. With his expectations suitably readjusted, John started the car and headed back to the store.

The shoppers’ carpark was full. Good for business. His parking space was empty. Good for John.  
He went in the staff entrance and headed straight for Dave’s office, only to find it dark and empty. John headed towards Cath Hilton’s office. He looked through the open door, saw she was in then knocked. “Excuse me Cath, where’s Dave? Was he not in today?”  
“Yeah, but went home early. Did you not get the messages?”  
“Turned the phone off when I got there. Hang on.” John got out his phone and turned it on. He stared at the screen. “27 messages, 8 missed calls?! Wait - did Dave leave at 1 o’clock? All right for some.”  
“Really, John? And where were you at 1 o’clock, then?”  
John looked sheepish. “I may have been ordering a steak for lunch.” He noted her smirk. “But I wasn’t going to take the rest of the day off.”  
Cath nodded. “How did the meeting go?”  
“They’ve been very busy. As you’ll see when I pass on the updated documentation once they send it through. Although I’ll spare you the section pointing out the need to obtain long-range weather forecasts.”  
“You’re kidding, right?”  
“Nope. It ties in with managing the expected demand for things like bread and milk and bottled water if it looks like we’ll be up to our eyeballs in snow or floodwaters.”  
Cath shook her head. “How do you stay awake during those kinds of meetings?”  
“I could say the same of you for HR topics. Talk about stating the bleeding obvious.”  
Cath arched her eyebrows at him.  
“Well, bleeding obvious to you, fairly obvious to me, gobbledegook to managers who think they’re above it all.” His phone beeped twice in quick succession. “Crap. I’d better go sort this lot out, so I’ll see you later. And Peter Hansen says Hi.”  
“Oh. I haven’t heard from Peter in ages. How’s he doing? They got kids yet?”  
“He’s still the same. Daughter on the way.”  
“Oh lovely.” She bit her lip. “Hey, um... can you spare me a few minutes before you leave tonight?”  
“That’ll be about five o’clock - is that all right?”  
“Yes. Thanks, John.”

John skimmed the texts as he walked back to his office, ignoring all but the one from Kayleigh asking if he was still alive after being trapped in a room with dozens of managers. He replied “survived - car at 5:15” then logged into the computer. His face fell when he saw the number of emails waiting for him. “Okay. Better get a brew on.”


	2. Chapter 2

It was just before five o’clock when John again knocked on Cath’s door. “Is now good?”  
“Yes, come in. And can you close the door please?” They sat quietly for a few moments, Cath fidgeting and unable to look John in the face.  
John finally spoke. “Let me guess - you got the automatic email saying that my personal file was accessed this morning, right?”  
Cath looked relieved. “Yes. It came through just before you got back.”  
“They get sent to Dave as well, right?”  
“Yes.”  
John shrugged. “Oh well. He’ll get around to reading it sometime tomorrow, if he bothers to turn up.”  
“I’m so sorry, John.”  
“Why?”  
“For not telling you about it.”  
“Cath, you’ve done nothing to apologize for. You loaded it into the system and then kept your mouth shut about it, which is exactly what you were supposed to do. Dave’s the one who took a giant steaming shit on my career without telling me what he was doing, or why. Twice.”  
“He’s going to say you didn’t follow the correct process and request access through me.”  
“So he can sanitise what I get to read? Bollocks to him. Besides, I did follow the process, just not the process he knows about.”  
“Eh?”  
“I told ya - HR is mostly gobbledegook to senior managers who think they’re above it all.”  
“Oh - do you mean the undue interference provisions? That’s a stretch. At best.”  
“I have it on good authority that my situation isn’t unique so they do apply.”  
“Peter?”  
“He told me there’s been about a dozen or so cases like this, all covered by those provisions so what I did was legit. Dave either won’t be happy, or he’ll just shrug it off since it’s too late to appeal those appointments. It does mean that he won’t be able to do that to me again. Well, not the exact same way - he’ll have to slag me off in writing and kill my chances that way.” He chuckled. “Yeah.”  
Cath looked him in the eye. “I’ve gotta say - you seem very calm about all this.”  
John shrugged. “I’m really not, but I did all my ranting before in the office with the door closed. Now I’m just waiting to see what happens. Could be nothing.”  
They sat quietly for a minute, then Cath looked at her watch. “Hey - you’d better get going.” She paused. “Don’t want to keep Kayleigh waiting too long...”  
John glanced at his watch. “Oh yeah - thanks Cath,” he replied, having not picked up on the double meaning.  
Cath noted the watch and recognised the significance. “And thanks for being so understanding. I wish it hadn’t turned out like this.”  
“It’s not your doing, Cath. No bother at all.” He paused, then a sly smile. “Tell you what, though, if it will help ease your conscience I’ll let you buy me a drink sometime.”  
“After work, you mean?”  
“Sure. Not today, obviously - but how about tomorrow? Can you get a permission slip from your Michael and we’ll have a drink and bite to eat tomorrow night? And I’ll drop you home afterwards.”  
Cath nodded. “I’ll tell Mike that he can have tomorrow night off and slum it at home with pizza and beer and motor racing on TV since he won’t have to come get me. He’ll think it’s Christmas.”  
“Good one. See you tomorrow, then.”  
John headed back to his office to collect his jacket and turn off the lights. He’d expected to have that conversation about accessing his personal file, but hadn’t expected Cath to be so uncomfortable about it. “Ah... she must be going soft.”

Kayleigh was standing beside the Fiat scrolling through text messages when she heard the car door unlock behind her. She turned to see Elsie, arms folded, standing beside the driver’s door. “Did you unlock the car?”  
Elsie shook her head. “He’s over there,” she replied, pointing back towards the staff entrance. Kayleigh looked across to see John and Rachel clearly deep in conversation, standing near the loading bay away from the stream of staff leaving the store.  
“Bit rude,” said Elsie, “your John making you wait while he has a natter with the hussy.”  
“Elsie - he’s not...” she paused as they watched Rachel briefly touch John’s arm as he seemed to hang his head for a moment. “He’s not...”  
“He’s not your John, he’s your friend, blah blah blah,” Elsie interrupted. “Save it, love. The look on your face right now says the exact opposite.”  
John was now walking towards them, a neutral expression on his face.  
Elsie spoke. “Ere, Mr Redmond...”  
“Goodnight, Elsie.”  
“But why were you making Kayleigh wait...”  
“Elsie,” he said, his voice even, “don’t make me tell you to piss off.” He walked straight past her, got in the car and the engine started immediately. Kayleigh looked at Elsie, shrugged and got in.  
At the sound of her seat belt clicking home John put the Fiat in reverse.  
“Was that necessary, John?”  
“No. But I had no intention of explaining myself to her. Can you just leave it?”  
She took the hint and turned on the radio, keeping it at the level she knew he would tolerate.

The radio had been the only sound in the car for nearly fifteen minutes. Kayleigh had given up waiting for John’s mood to thaw and had resorted to rereading the texts on her phone when she was distracted by movement to her right. She glanced up to see that John was adjusting the rear-vision mirror, and noted that a brown leather watch strap was visible on his wrist.  
“Oh,” she said, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear a watch before.”  
“Hmmm?” John looked at his wrist. “Oh yeah.”  
“It’s very smart. Looks old.”  
“Yeah - it were me Dad’s. I wear it sometimes.”  
“For special occasions?”  
“Ah no. Mainly... mainly when I miss him.” He scratched his chin. “I could really use his advice today.”  
“Something going on?”  
“Work shit.”  
“Was it something to do with Rachel? Something she’s done?” she asked, looking hopeful.  
“No. Something she said, something I should have been told about before now, and not by her. And I’m a bit pissed off about it all.”  
“Do you want to talk about it? Is it something I can help with?”  
“No.”  
“Oh. You sure?”  
“Not this time. And, um, I can’t take you home tomorrow. Er, drop you home tomorrow. Cath and I are working late.”  
“I could wait.”  
“We’ll be working until maybe-seven, then going to eat. You’d have to wait around the store for at least two hours, for free. Still interested?”  
“You know what, I think I’ll pass, thanks.”


	3. Chapter 3

John had been woken by the rain an hour before the alarm was due to go. With all hope of sleep gone he took the opportunity to have a long shower and unhurried breakfast, working through some scenarios about how the day might play out. The rain had eased by the time he’d left for Bury and when he pulled up in front of the small Bury house he felt quite calm and assured.

Kayleigh was still a bit miffed that John hadn’t told her about the “work shit” from yesterday. She had glared at Steve when he’d pointed out that she really had no business openly asking John about work issues simply because they were on a first-name basis, but since Rachel seemed to be somehow involved she just couldn’t let this one go. She had a plan.  
So she was waiting at the gate in plenty of time, determined to stop any John-Steve chat so she could get on with the plan. A plan that couldn’t fail. A plan that had “success” written all over it. A plan that fell apart as soon as she got in and saw the brown leather watch strap on his wrist. “Oh, balls.”  
“You what?”  
She forced herself to smile. “Morning. You all right?”  
“Um, I’m all right, yeah. You?”  
“Yeah - doing all right for a... what is it, Wednesday? All right for a Wednesday.”  
“Good, good. Hey, you remember I’m working late tonight, right?”  
“Yeah, yeah - it’s your date night with Cath.”  
“It’s not a date. It’s some pre-work for the Christmas team, looking at staffing requirements for December and January, based on what happened last year. Then we’re gonna eat and I’ll drop her home.”  
“A late finish then dinner? Sounds like a date to me,” she replied with a cheeky grin.  
“Smart arse.”  
Kayleigh was quiet for a moment. “You could do worse than date Cath.”  
“Very true. Although I don’t think her Michael would be impressed.”  
“Well, obviously... but if she didn’t have a Michael, would you?”  
“No,” he replied without hesitating.  
“Oh. Wow. I thought you two were thick as thieves.”  
“Oh sure. I’ve got all the time in the world for Cath, but she’s smoking again so there’s no way. I wouldn’t even consider it.”  
“She’s not? Didn’t she give up about five years back?”  
“Yeah, but started again a few weeks ago when she and Michael started having problems.” He looked at Kayleigh. “Er, which is nobody’s business, so not a word to anyone - especially Cath. Okay?”  
“Got it.”

After fifteen minutes John’s phone rang and the name “PAUL REDMOND” appeared in the display on the dashboard.  
“Excuse me,” said John, “but I want to take this.” He stabbed the button on the steering wheel. “Hi Paul. How are ya?”  
“Good John. You all right?”  
“Yep. Hey, there’s someone else in the car, so can you please not swear at me this one time?”  
“Sure, sure - just this once. Hey, just want to double-check what days you’re around over Christmas. You’re staying with us overnight on Christmas Eve and all day Christmas Day, right?”  
“Yep, but I’ll be back at mine that night and then back to work on Boxing Day.”  
A pause. “Got it. Where will you be around New Year’s?”  
“Early finish New Years’ Eve, home New Year’s Day, then back to normal.”  
“Oooohhhh. Bit rough. Not much of a holiday.”  
“Oh sure, but I will be running the place for about ten days.”  
“Really? Well. About time, I reckon. Right then. Have a good one, catch ya later.”  
“Bye Paul.”

Kayleigh was staring at John, a surprised look on her face. “Will you really only have two days off the whole time?”  
“Yep. It’s the flip-side to running the Christmas team. It’s meant to be an opportunity to show what you can do, but you also have to be there every day the store is open, to oversee what you organised and clean up any mess in case it turns to shit.”  
“Does the entire Christmas Team have to be there whole time as well?”  
“Nope - just the unfortunate who organised it.”  
“Um - didn’t you say that this was all about lining you up for a promotion?”  
“Yes, but there’s nowhere to be promoted into.”  
“So you get extra work to do, and you miss out on a proper holiday, all for the chance of a promotion that doesn’t actually exist?”  
John nodded. “That about sums it up.”  
“So why do it at all?”  
John went quiet. Kayleigh was on the verge of repeating the question when John finally spoke. “Because I agreed to do it, even though that was before I realised it wouldn’t get me anywhere. And if I say No now I’ll look like a right arse. So, no. I’m stuck with it.”

John didn’t say another word for the remainder of the journey in. Kayleigh briefly considered trying to get him talking but the look on his face was one she hadn’t seen since he first talked about the death of his father - so she felt the best option was to leave him with his thoughts.

It was raining more heavily by the time they arrived in the carpark. Kayleigh looked up at the sky, hesitated then started to open her door. John didn’t move.  
“Are you not coming in?”  
John tapped his phone. “In a bit - just have to sort this out.”  
“Okay. Have a good day.”  
“You too.”  
Kayleigh got out and closed the door. John watched her for a few seconds, then turned his attention back to his phone and the notes he’d made that morning.  
“It’s a normal day unless he makes it otherwise.”  
“You know you’re right.”  
“Don’t give the bastard the satisfaction.”  
He sniffed. That last one could be tricky.

By mid-morning John was at a bit of a loss. Dave seemed to be invisible. John had ventured into Dave’s office to give the morning status report only to find it dark and empty, but when he’d sent the report as an email he received the email-read receipt almost immediately. And his casual enquiries hadn’t turned up anything more definite than “I dunno, but he was in earlier...”

The morning dragged on. With Dave nowhere to be found, John didn’t have the option to have a normal lunch break so he bought some pre-made sandwiches from the deli to have at his desk. On his way back he looked into Cath Hilton’s office. “Hey Cath - do you know where Dave is? He’s opened the emails I’ve sent but I can’t find him anywhere.”  
“Come in and close the door.”  
She motioned for him to come closer.  
“He’s been in,” she said quietly. “Came into the office, made a point of speaking to Roisin in private then he disappeared. Then an hour later I got an alert that your personal file had been accessed again.”  
“You what?!”  
“Shhh! Turns out Dave went to Area for a discussion about how you got access to your personal file, during which time your personal file was accessed again. Just read, not updated.”  
“How do you know all this?”  
Cath smiled. “You’re not the only one with mates in Area, John. I got a call after Dave left, on the quiet, so I won’t say who from.”  
“Peter?”  
“Not unless he’s turned into a woman overnight.”  
“Oh. Right. But... why did he go over there in the first place?”  
“When he came in he got Roisin to look up the HR-regs about accessing personal information, didn’t like what she found so went to Area for a second opinion. They’ve told him the same, so officially that is the end of that.” She pointed at him. “None of which you’ve heard from me. Got that?”  
John nodded. “Got it. Thanks Cath. Thanks for not telling me any of those things.”  
She frowned. “What I will tell you is that he won’t be happy that you got to look at everything he put in your file, and he also won’t be happy that what you did was above board and there’s nothing he can do about it. And an unhappy Dave can be a miserable bastard. So, behave. Don’t give him any reason to look at you twice for a few days, yeah?”  
“Okay. Any idea when he’ll be back, if he does?”  
“He’s got a couple of meetings this afternoon so needs to be back by one o’clock. So do yourself a favour - stay in your office and do some of that management-shit until he leaves tonight, which will probably be...” She looked thoughtful. “It’s Wednesday, so... he should be gone by five. Think you can stay out of trouble until then?”  
“Will do. When do you want to head off tonight?”  
“Now’s good.”  
“Cath...”  
“I’ve told Dave I’ve got plenty on my plate so I’ll be here until about six-thirty.”  
“Oh. Okay.”  
Cath scoffed. “No I won’t. If I’m not having my second drink by six o’clock there’ll be hell to pay. Be ready to leave at about half-five, all right? I’ll come get you.”  
“Right.”

John took her advice. Once back in his office he closed the door and proceeded to deal with every menial administrative task he’d managed to ignore for the last few days, leaving him with a clear desk but with no sense of having achieved anything. Although he had worked out out how Dave had responded to emails without having shown his face. His theory had been confirmed by a short conversation with Gail from System Support, who was based in the store for the week. “Manager-perk, eh? Trust Dave to keep that to himself.”  
His biggest concern was Dave himself, having no idea how he would eventually react to what had gone on. No doubt he would have been told that John could have grounds to complain about Dave’s actions, so maybe - just maybe - that would enough to keep things professional.  
What he did know was that the waiting and hiding wasn’t doing his nerves any favours.

Cath’s regular open-door afternoon had been a bust, with just two members of staff taking the opportunity to walk in without an appointment. She’d been left with plenty of time to watch the world go past her door, but what got her attention was the number of times that John had walked by during the previous twenty minutes.  
She got up and stood in the doorway. He came back a few minutes later, a pained look on his face. When he was a few feet away she quietly asked “What’s going on? You all right?”  
He looked around, saw it was clear and patted his stomach.  
She frowned. “Feeling sick?”  
“No - just a bit worked up. Needed a nervous one.”  
“Nervous ones, don’t you mean?”  
He nodded.  
“You need distracting, I think. Go get your jacket.”  
When he returned she handed him a bottle of cold water, said “Let’s get you in the fresh air,” and proceeded to lead him out of the store and across to the far corner of the carpark where it was empty and relatively quiet. John looked at her quizzically.  
She took a sip from her own bottle of water and smiled. “Turn your phones off.”  
“What are we doing?”  
“Do as you’re told. And no talking. Just relax for a few minutes.” And with that she turned to face the afternoon sun, leaned back against the fence and closed her eyes.  
Wary of creasing his jacket, John chose to stand upright and turned to face the gentle breeze. The combination of the fresh air, sips of cold water and warm sun on his back left him with a calmness he hadn’t felt for days.  
And before he knew it Cath was nudging his arm. “Time’s up.” Her relaxed smile matched the way he felt. “Get yourself something from the chemist for your stomach, then meet me in the second meeting room. We’ll get started on the December staffing plan. Go on.”

When John made his way into the meeting room he found Cath in front of a whiteboard with plenty of paper spread out on the desk beside it. She turned to him. “Right. Time to earn our dinner. Let’s do this.”  
And together they thrashed out the first draft of the December staffing plan based on what Cath had worked on a year earlier. After a short break, during which John said goodnight to Kayleigh and Cath retrieved her stash of chocolate biscuits, they proceeded to do the same for January.  
When they were done they stood next to each other, reviewing the whiteboard with arms folded.  
Cath looked at John. “Happy with that?”  
“Very. Ready for that drink?”  
“Definitely.”

John had been waiting outside for a few minutes when Cath walked up beside him and nudged his arm. She grinned. “Hey. Let’s go.”  
“Well, you’re buying me that drink, so you’re in charge. Where are you taking me?”  
“I’m thinking The Pig - good wine choices, plenty of soft drinks for you, plus their mains are a good size. And cheap. Fancy a big plate of fish and chips?”  
He grinned. “Yep. I haven’t been there for ages. It’s not that far and it’s not raining so let’s walk. A bit more fresh air to build up the appetite.”  
“Good thinking. You just might have to carry me back afterwards.”  
“Jesus. How much are you planning to drink?”  
“You’re not the only one who’s had a shit couple of days, you know.”


	4. Chapter 4

While waiting at the final intersection Cath noticed that John was paying particular attention to the sky. “What?”  
He nodded towards a buildup of dark clouds in the distance. “Is it meant to rain again tonight?”  
“Yeah, but not until late. We’ve tons of time.”  
“We do.” He paused. “This is a bit of change for you, finishing early. First time for a few weeks, isn’t it? Lots of long days...”  
“Well... sure, but it hasn’t been every day.”  
“Hmmm,” said John as they started to cross the road. “So, if you were planning to bail by half-five, why did you tell Dave that you expected to be busy until half-six?”  
“So he’d piss off. I told him I was working on the performance standards report.”  
“Is that the performance standards report that he doesn’t contribute to, so can’t take the credit for?”  
A smile. “It is.”  
“The same performance standards report you submitted on Monday?”  
A giggle. “That’s the one.”

The Pig was set back from the street, with a small courtyard in front. John stopped and looked around. “What’s happened here?”  
“Rebuilt after the fire, about a year ago.”  
“Well, I guess I really don’t get out much.”  
As they approached the door all John could see was a packed bar. He groaned.  
Cath nudged his arm. “I know you don’t like crowded bars, but we’re going past this lot to where it’s not so busy. It’ll be fine. Besides, most of them will clear off in the next half-hour or so.”  
John didn’t look convinced.  
“Look. This was your idea, and you put me in charge, remember? Now get your arse in there.”

He held the door open for Cath then followed her to the left of the main bar and into a larger open area that was noticeably quieter. John joined her at a small standing-table, then looked around for any part of the room he recognised. Then he realised that Cath was looking at him. “Sorry Cath - did you just say something?”  
“Are you going to have a drink with me?”  
“Yes.”  
“An actual drink?”  
“An actual drink. Get me... a half of... something that isn’t horrible.”  
Cath frowned. “I’m not sure they have that brand on tap but I’ll check.”

She returned soon afterwards with a nearly-full glass of wine and a half-glass that she put on the coaster in front of John. He looked at it dubiously.  
“Did you get me a ginger beer?”  
“No, it’s beer-beer. I’ve had it before. It’s low-alcohol ‘cos you’ll be driving, got some flavour in it but not too strong... it might be a touch sweet but you won’t be drinking much so it won’t seem sickly. I think you’ll like it. And if you don’t I’ll happily have it.”  
“Well, with a recommendation like that, how can I go wrong?” He took a sip. “Okay.” Then a small mouthful. “Yeah, I do like that. Oh, cheers, by the way.”  
She smiled, raised her glass to John then took a small sip. “Okay.” Then tipped half the contents into her mouth, held it for a few seconds then swallowed - never breaking eye contact with him. Then she flicked her tongue across her lips and made a sound as close to a purr as he’d ever heard.  
John just looked at her, his eyebrows raised.  
She smiled. “Relax John. I’m not planning on getting shitfaced. I just... really wanted that.”  
“Oh, right. Should I ask?”  
“Later. Right now, I just want to...” she drained her glass, “get another one of these. And then we can have a chat about when we’re gonna eat. How hungry are you?”  
“I’ll be right for about another half hour at most.”  
“Right then, chat over. Let’s go up and order.”

While John was paying for their meals, Cath took her second drink to a small table at the far corner where she removed her jacket and sat with her back to the room. As John approached he noted that she was wearing a different top than when she’d been at work, but it wasn’t until he was sitting down that he realised just how tight it was. And that the top three buttons were undone.

“Oh, Lord,” he thought. “Right. Don’t stare, whatever you do. Just... look somewhere else.”

Cath noticed that John seemed distracted and was obviously looking anywhere other than at her. “You all right?”  
“Yeah, yeah - I’m good,” he replied, taking a sudden interest in the floor.  
Cath glanced down, then grinned and covered her cleavage with her hand. “Relax John - you don’t have to keep looking away. It was just a bit hot when I had the jacket on. I’ll put them away in a minute.”  
“Okay, right, right.”  
“Anyway,” she said in a stage-whisper, “it’s not like you haven’t seen them before...” then winked and giggled at his obvious discomfort. “Come on. What is it?”  
“I didn’t expect that you’d get changed.”  
“So?”  
“Well, this is gonna sound lame, but... have I asked you out on a date without realising it?”  
She grinned. “No. I was really looking forward to going out tonight and chose something I feel good in.”  
“Well... you look... fantastic. You really do.”  
“Well, thank you sir.” She quickly looked around to make sure no one was close enough to hear her. “And now, just for you, I shall do up one of the buttons.”  
John was then treated to a private show in which Cath quietly hummed “The Stripper” while making an elaborate play of running her finger from her ear down the side of her neck then across and down to circle each of the three open buttons in turn - before finally fastening the lowest button with a flourish.  
With that done, she slowly licked her lips and in a husky voice said “Like what you see, sailor?”  
“Jesus.” He chuckled then shook his head and looked her in the eye. “Thanks Cath.”  
“For doing up a button?”  
“For being you. And for looking out for me today.”

“Yeah, well... about today. Before you say anything else - any discussion about work has a three-drink minimum, and this is only number two. And I haven’t eaten yet. I don’t want to spoil my appetite with any talk about those bastards.”  
John nodded. “Got it. Nowt about work. Well, I’ve been practicing my small talk. See what you think.”  
“Go on then.”  
“Here we go. How about them Rovers on Saturday? Fancy their chances?”  
“What? What Rovers? What are you on about?”  
John shrugged. “I don’t know anything about sports teams. I guessed there could be some team with ‘Rovers’ in their name. London Rovers, maybe?”

Cath looked at him, shaking her head. Then she reached across the table. “Give me your hand.” He did, and she placed her other hand on his. “That whole ‘playing the fool’ thing probably works well with Ben and Sophie, or when you’re doing it for laughs, but it’s a bit beneath you the rest of the time.” She smiled. “I don’t need you making fun of yourself to cheer me up or make me happy, thanks very much. Just being here with you is enough.” She tickled the back of his hand as she let go. “You want to do small talk? Go with what you know, what you enjoy. Stick to films, or old motorbikes” - she mock-groaned - “if you really must. But better yet, go with music. And on that - when does Compendium play next? I haven’t been to see you since the Sixties-do a month ago. That was fun.”  
“That was good, and nobody walked out during the set which was encouraging. And it’s always nice to have a friendly face in the crowd.”  
“Is it not awkward, singing when people you know are watching?”  
“It was in the early days, but when I learned how to sing to the whole crowd it was fine. But I always choose someone in the crowd and check back every so often to make sure that person is actually enjoying themselves. That time it was you.” He nodded behind her. “Food’s here.”

The server placed the plates between them. John nodded in appreciation. “Nacho chips, beans and... something... welded together with a lot of melted cheese. Get into it.” He took a small mound for his plate then started to pull it apart.  
Cath whistled quietly. “That’s more than I expected for a starter. You might actually have to carry me back after all.”  
John grinned. “Better get my strength up, then.”

The plates had been cleared by the time John got back from the bathroom. “You were right about the bar clearing out - it’s almost dead now. Does this place only stay busy for a few hours?”  
“It’s much like this Monday to Wednesday, then busier through to Saturday when it’s rammed, inside and out. Proper pub crowd then, no chance of a quiet night out. Even getting meals is almost impossible.”  
“Do they have bands in on those nights?”  
“Never seen one. I think they just blast out kiddie shit on a P.A. ‘cos it’s cheaper.”  
“Pity. The courtyard could be a good spot for a band to set up.”

Cath returned from washing her hands just as their mains arrived. “Wow,” she said, “that’s a lot faster than last time I was here. Not much of a break there.”  
John scratched his chin as he eyed up their meals. “Right. Just as well we didn’t order two starters. This is going to be an effort.”  
“Told you they do a good size.”  
“Good thing we’re not in a hurry. Can you imagine trying to finish this and get to a movie or something? It’d be impossible.”  
“Hmmm. Right. Hey, would you like some of this steak?”  
“Is that your way of saying you’d like to try some of my fish?”  
“It is. Figure I should try some before I’m too full.”

Cath had a relaxed smile. “I’m enjoying this. Haven’t done this in a while.”  
“Oh... do you two not go out much?”  
She hesitated. “Ah, no. Not really.”  
“That’s too bad.” He looked at his plate. “If you know of any other places like this we could do this again sometime. You know, after a couple of good days.”  
“Yeah, I’ve got a couple of ideas.”  
“Okay, then.”

They were about halfway through their meals when John’s phone vibrated. Cath watched him glance at it then keep eating. “Are you not going to look at it?”  
“No. Well, it’s rude, isn’t it?”  
“Go on, I don’t mind. Who is it, then?”  
He tapped his phone. “Kayleigh, asking how the date is going.”  
“Why would she say it’s a date?”  
“As a wind up. She knows I’m with you.”  
“You could tell her you’ve pulled.”  
“I’m not telling her that.”  
“Not even as a wind up? Well then... tell her the meals are big and cheap but the good wine is expensive.”  
“Okay.” He started tapping on the phone. “That’s good info for her next online date.”  
Cath frowned. “You do know she’s not doing that any more, right?”  
“No. She never said.”  
“Did you not ask?”  
“Why would I?”  
She paused. “Well, why do you think she’s not doing it any more?”  
“Um... to save money, I guess. She did say she wasn’t getting many dates from it.”  
Cath looked at him incredulously. “Yeah, that’s why,” she deadpanned.  
“I did tell her.”

Having finished dinner, Cath went up for more drinks then they sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Then John spoke up.  
“That’s drink number three. Ready to talk now? We’ll go turnabout and sort out the world. What’s been so shit about your couple of days, then?”

Cath stayed quiet for another minute, sipping her wine, looking at John over the glass. Finally she spoke. “Well,” she began, “you remember all the things I didn’t tell you in my office at lunchtime?”  
“Yes.”  
“Here’s something else I’m not going to tell you. You took one hell of a risk doing what you did yesterday. Risky for you, risky for our friend Peter. OUR friend. How could you do that? Why didn’t you just talk to me?”  
“Because it was your job to update my file. I had no business asking you how I could take a look at what you’d put in there. And I talked to Peter in general terms first, gave him the opportunity to tell me where to go, but he was the one who explained how I could do it by the rules. No risk anywhere. Well, maybe to me, but what’s Dave gonna do? Have a go at me for following the rules?”  
Cath put the glass down and folded her arms. “I don’t need to be protected by you, John.”  
“It wasn’t about protecting you, Cath. Christ - sometimes I’m the one needing to be protected FROM you, ya... mad thing.”  
She smiled despite herself.  
“So what happened today?”  
Her smile faded. “When he came in, Thompson made a point of talking to Roisin, not me. Made it very clear that he did not want to talk to me about anything he was doing. You’re right - I didn’t do anything wrong, did exactly what I was supposed to. But he wanted me to stay out of it. Me. I actually don’t answer to him for most of the stuff I do, and yet he thinks he can just...” She took a moment. “Some days I just want to kick his big fat head in, but that’s impossible because it’s so far up his own arse.”  
John nodded. “True enough.”

“Right then - what about you, John?”  
“You’ve heard it already.”  
“No - there’s something else. Kayleigh told me this morning that you seemed really upset yesterday but wouldn’t talk about it. And we’re doing turnabout, and it’s your turn.”

“All right. How much of my personal file do you think you’ve seen?”  
“All of it, I guess, at one time or another.”  
“Would you agree that the latest stuff from Dave isn’t particularly flattering, compared with the rest of it?”  
“More like damning, you mean.”  
“There’s more. Turns out that Dave has been slagging me off for ages now, most of which has been by word of mouth so there’s no actual record of it.”  
“How do you know this?”  
“A little bird told me yesterday.”  
“Rachel?”  
“Yes. When I saw Ian Hardy at the meeting in Area, he asked me to say Hello to her for him. But when I did she looked like I’d slapped her.”  
“Eh?”  
“Turns out Hardy is a bit of an arsehole. Once it was obvious he was being lined up for Burnley, he started acting like Dave, slagging me off the same way that Dave has been for almost a year now.” He looked at Cath. “That’s why Rachel didn’t go with him - he’s almost Jekyll and Hyde at times about work things and people, and when he was like that almost constantly she didn’t want any part of it. So. I’ve been slagged off for nearly a year, even when Dad was dying, and no one could be bothered to tell me. Another reason why I didn’t even get considered for the last couple of jobs. Seems I’m now just a joke, but I can’t prove any of it.”  
“Didn’t Litchy tell you all this was going on?”  
“He didn’t know. I talked to him this morning - he’d heard a few things but since he’s not one of Dave’s cronies they’d not included him in their little bitch sessions.”  
“So what happens now?”  
“In theory he can’t do it any more - not in writing, at least. But I think the damage is already done. I really think my career is dead. But, right now I have no choice other than to carry on and smile and be a good boy. Still gotta eat.” He sighed. “Bills aren’t gonna pay themselves.”  
They sat silently for a minute, then Cath spoke. “Fuck. So much for sorting out the world.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Yeah, well.”  
“Really, John? That’s all you’re gonna say?”  
John shrugged. “A dead-end job is still a job. And I figure I can just put up with it, and it’s not as if they’re actively trying to get rid...” His train of thought was interrupted by a faint sporadic tapping sound that started softly but grew slightly louder over the space of twenty seconds. He turned his head, trying to find the source of the noise, then he looked up and his face fell. “Please tell me that’s not rain.”  
Cath listened for a moment. “I think it might be, yeah.”  
“That’s just great. Hang on - I’ll check the weather radar on my phone.” A few seconds later his shoulders sagged. “So much for late rain.” He showed Cath the screen - a mass of swirling green as the display refreshed itself. “That’s from ten minutes ago. We’re about to be pissed on from a great height.” He sighed. “Typical. Well, I’ll go get the car and come back for you.” He stood and reached for his suit jacket.  
Cath also started to stand. “You don’t have to do that - I’ll go back with you.”  
“No, no - you stay put and finish your drink. Have another one of you want. I can get there quickly enough and dry off at work if I need to, then drive back. No sense us both getting rained-on.” He buttoned up his jacket. “Think happy thoughts, yeah? Think about it not raining too hard, and think about there being a free parking space close by.” And with that he turned and headed for the main doors.

She watched him go then turned back to her drink. With her back to an effectively-empty room, and little sound other than the rain on the roof she started to feel quite alone so moved across to John’s now-empty chair. With a wry smile she realised her top two buttons were still undone, something that had failed to bother John in the slightest for over an hour. He’d still peeked, of course.  
An incoming text message distracted her for a few moments until the sound of footsteps caught Cath’s attention and she looked up to see one of the female staff members approaching. Her name badge read “Pam - Manager.”  
“Hello. We’re about to close the kitchen and this room, but you’re welcome to wait for your husband in the ladies’ area past the bar.” Noting Cath’s confusion she continued. “It’s to the far right of the bar as you face it. The well-lit area. It’s quite warm so you won’t need your jacket. It’s away from the bar itself but just give the staff a wave if you want anything.”  
“Okay.” She stood and picked up her glass. “How did you know to come find me?”  
“Your husband had a quick word before he went outside into that mess.” She jerked her thumb towards the main doors. “He wasn’t sure how long he’d be and asked if there was somewhere safe you could wait.” Her smile matched Cath’s. “I hope your car isn’t too far away.”  
“About a mile I think.”  
Pam made a face as the rain briefly intensified. “Ooohhhhh,” she said, shaking her head, “with no brolly and no coat, he’s gonna need wringing out.”

After thirty minutes John hadn’t returned and hadn’t responded to her text. She was starting to worry when his response finally came through:  
“Coming now. I need an Ark, not a car.”

But it was a further fifteen minutes before he finally came through the front doors, shaking the umbrella and looking around. She caught his eye and waved. “Hey. What happened out there?” She noted he was in shirtsleeves. “And where is your jacket?”  
“It absolutely chucked it down the whole way to the store, and I got held up at every intersection so it got soaked. Managed to squeeze most of the water out when I got back to work, then laid it out in the boot. I’ll have to get it cleaned and dried tomorrow. Then, everyone decided to get in their car just when I was coming back here. That’s what took me so long. I did manage to get a park not that far away though.”  
She touched his bare forearm. “You’re wet. Aren’t you cold?”  
“Nah - it’s horrible outside but not cold. And it’s raining so hard you can’t help but get wet.” He looked at the area where Cath had been waiting. “What’s this? You were lit up like a display case in a bakery.”  
Cath chuckled at his choice of words. “At this time of night they set aside this area for ladies only, where we can sit and not have to fend off any lads at the main bar.”  
“Okay. That’s really good thinking.”  
She nodded. “Hey, do you want to stay here a bit longer, dry off, maybe get a hot drink from the bar?”  
“Ah... I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”  
“Oh.”  
“No - not like that. If this rain keeps up I think they’re gonna start closing roads. Best we head off home.” He nodded towards the door. “Ready for this?”  
“I’ve got my jacket - I’ll be fine.”  
“No you won’t. If you’re not under the umbrella you’ll get soaked. And it’s not very wide so you’re gonna have to snuggle up. You all right with that?”  
Cath touched his face. “You went out in a rainstorm so I wouldn’t have to. Cozying up to you under an umbrella for a few minutes is going to be absolutely fine.”  
John smiled and placed his hand over hers. “Cath?”  
She looked at his hand, then into his eyes. “Yes?”  
“Your hand’s cold. Did you do nothing but drink wine the whole time I was gone?”  
“You cheeky shit. I was starting to worry when you didn’t come back.”  
“Oh yeah? Where’s the search party then?”  
“Um... shut up or I’ll smack your arse.”  
“This isn’t the time for your sweet talk. Let’s get moving, lady.”  
The door closed behind them. They reached an arm around each other, huddled under the umbrella then stepped out from under cover and strode off into the rain.  
Pam and the barman had heard the last part of their exchange and were both smiling. She looked across at him. “Jesus. Their home life must be a riot.”

The rain eased briefly while John sheltered Cath as she got into the passenger seat, then he got into his own seat without getting too wet.  
“Wow,” said Cath, “you weren’t exaggerating.”  
“It was worse earlier,” he replied. “Right then. I know where you live but not the best way to get there from here, and the satnav sometimes plays up when it rains this much, so you are navigating, okay?”  
“Sure. Well, for a start we’re facing the wrong way, so do a U-y then straight on.”  
“You’re kidding, right?”

After a cautious but uneventful drive the Fiat eventually pulled up outside Cath’s tidy two-storey. John took a long look at the little sports car in the driveway.   
“Did you get a new car?”  
“No - that’s Francie’s. She’s been staying over for a few nights.”  
“She might want to throw an extra cover over it. That soft-top might not be able to keep all this rain out for much longer.”  
“I’ll tell her. Thanks.”  
John gripped the steering wheel with both hands and looked straight ahead.  
“Ahhh... is Michael in tonight?”  
“No. Not tonight.”  
“Right, right.” There was an uncomfortable pause. “When did he leave?”  
She took a deep breath. “Beginning of last week. Back up in Liverpool with his brother.”  
“So when I mentioned him yesterday...?”  
“Made it up. First thing I could think of.”  
He turned to her. “Sorry Cath.”  
She nodded. “How did you know?”  
“I guessed. A few weeks back you started smoking again but not all the time and not openly, so I figured it was probably because you were either worried or stressed, or because you sometimes do it to push people away. And the long days started at about the same time. I could see that were doing a standard day but then just staying put in your office for an extra hour or so, which is what you sometimes do to avoid people. And since I couldn’t smell smoke on you this week, and you seemed happy to finish early tonight, I guessed that the situation - whatever it was - was sorted. One way or another.”  
“Well, aren’t you clever.”  
“I wasn’t trying to be clever. I really hoped I was wrong. Are you going to be all right?”  
“Yeah - had a while to think about this, after all. That’s why Francie is here. I told her about it and she just drove over the next day. She’s the reason I said Yes to tonight. Told me it was time to get out of the house.”  
“Right. Well, can you say Hi for me, and ask if she can arrange better weather for next time?”  
“Next time?”  
“Sure. I did say we should do this again. But, um... let’s rack up a few good days first, yeah? And then we can focus on enjoying it rather than sorting the world out.”  
“I’d like that.”  
The rain continued to pound on the roof.  
“Come on. Let’s get you inside.”

It took less a than a minute to get Cath to her door but that was enough time for John’s shirt and arms to get wet again. They stepped inside. “Honestly,” he said, looking out at the rain, “who’d live here?”  
Cath smiled, removing her jacket. “Are you sure I can’t get you a hot drink before you go?”  
He shook his head. “There’s still a chance they might close some roads, so best I was away.”  
“Maybe next time?”  
“Definitely.”  
“Well you drive safely, and text me when you get home, right?”  
“You got it.”  
John hesitated, made to reach for her then stopped. As he always did.  
Cath stepped forward, reached her arms around him and pulled him close.  
He chuckled and hugged her. “You do realise I’m soaking wet here.”  
Cath squeezed tighter. “I don’t care.”

She held him as long as she dared before kissing his cheek. “It’s time you were away, young man.”  
He nodded and they released their hold on each other. Cath reached for his hands.  
“Thank you for tonight. Goodnight, Jonathan Frances.”  
“Goodnight, Katerine Angelica.”

Cath stood at the open door long enough to watch the Fiat drive away. She closed the door and turned to see her sister looking out from the kitchen. “Hey, you.”  
Francie looked at Cath, open-mouthed. “He knows your full name?”  
“Of course he does.”  
“The name you said was nobody’s effing business but your own?”  
Cath smiled. “Yeah.”  
“Get in here. I’m going to make some tea, and you’re going to start talking.”

The sisters were sitting at the kitchen table. Cath finished her story with “... and you have to make sure the weather is better next time.”  
Francie finished her tea. “Huh. Quite a night.” She thought for a moment. “Hey - do you think he might have tried for a stay-over if I wasn’t here?”  
“No.”  
“Really? Why not?”  
“Because he’s in love with someone else.”  
“Hmmm. Didn’t look like it to me, judging by how he was holding you before.”  
“He is. He just hasn’t admitted it to himself yet.”

As John had suspected, key roads had been closed due to flooding so his trip home took a half-hour longer than he’d hoped. Before he went inside he sent two texts in quick succession.

C - home safe and sound but bloody wet - J  
K - bit late 2moro, bringing Rose here for a parcel delivery x


End file.
